Drift Away [Poem]
A tattered edge of a tutu drifts across the playa
the exodus is over and a lonely volunteer pulls glitter from the dust
the vast space empty of noise makers and heighten expectations
only memories linger here
—
i knew you would answer
when my disoriented plane
put me half a thousand miles from my connection
you were always there
except when you weren’t
“of course, come, you can have half my bed”
your generosity resonates in thru your sleepy voice
Sabrina is Ruby Tuesday
we chat when i arrive at absurd o’clock
you are busy as always
a festival medic you say, it fits you
you turned down a gift ticket to Burning Man
also classic you
—-
we’re out of touch
different coasts, different clans
you were for me a shooting star
bright, short, hot
the torn tutu drifts just slightly out of reach
Thanks Pax–Here is my unadulterated poetic reply,
The screen texts–and i cant read it, the phone calls and it is masked.
ive lived with a defunct tool for many a week, and tonight it is disturbing.
Someone I know and don’t know is reaching.
Pax—in search of a landing– Of course and i wonder if I can stay up. I try and recognize my methods are failing. Sleeping on my bed with computer music near me I wake minutes before he arrives.. Glad i could greet him with a measure of awakeness, still i want to sleep.
We nest, sleep and wake…working on our own lives. I feel like we have never left each other. the ease of doing our own thing so entwined in our fibers there was only the casual reference.
Yet i know we only found a waystop,